


Concussed

by orphan_account



Category: AFI
Genre: Black Sails Era, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tour Fic, hardcore h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade is emasculated and Davey has a concussion and somehow this situation leads to them getting it on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concussed

**Author's Note:**

> This story, to me, signifies the beginning of a era within my own work. I started writing AFI fic in 05, and then took a considerable break into other fandoms for awhile, only to return to my original home. This story marks my return. It was a huge departure in the type of story I wrote, and the way I wrote all together, and the first of what I eventually grew to refer to as 'hardcore hurt/comfort' or hurt/comfort fics that center around injuries obtained at hxc shows. This particular fic has loads of problems, but I still maintain great affection for it. 
> 
> It's also WAY too long to be a oneshot, but that's how I originally posted it so that's how it's gonna stay. At least it's formatted readably now.

It was far from the first time Davey had gotten himself into some kind of a fight after a show. In fact, this was a fairly regular occurrence. When you put yourself up onstage like that, decked out in skin tight PVC pants and ten pounds of godforsaken eyeliner and pranced around screaming punk music, it was guaranteed to at the very least confuse someone, if not piss someone off. There were a lot of AFI fans who listened to the albums and thought they were the shit until they saw the dude who sang spin kicking around in his fishnet and powder foundation and braids. Suddenly their masculinity was challenged; they liked a band with a faggot singer, and sure enough after the show was over, they were drunk and staggering around by the van looking for the little shit so they could pound him. 

At first, this really, really bothered Jade. The Davey he remembered was the choir boy theater nerd mop-haired skinny thing who literally got his ass kicked every time he so much as walked past a group of jocks. For the two years Davey and Jade went to high school together, it was definitely Jade and Adam's job to go bail the kid out every day in the cafeteria. Of course, when Jade went to college, Davey had to grow a backbone and develop some way to defend his nelly ass. So when Jade came back to join AFI, Davey had crawled out of his cocoon this tough, hardcore dancing spit fire punk ass who could do more than hold his own in a mosh pit, but take on any drunken frat boy who wanted to give him shit for his mascara. It was always better to let him teach them a lesson, but Jade had a very hard time allowing himself to stand idle while Davey was shoved around even a little bit. He'd pulled him from dumpsters and held ice to a busted lips and threatened to kill the guys who touched him, and it kind of damaged his masculinity to know what he was skinnier than Davey now. 

He always worried that one night Davey would get into real trouble and unlike the high school version of himself who was two years wiser and cooler and punker than little Davey, he wouldn't be able to save his ass this time. It was a disconcerting way to feel. It resulted in Jade having to tag along after Davey like a kicked puppy, loathe to let him walk around alone in dangerous waters. 

Bakersfield, California, was definitely considered dangerous waters. 

The show that night had been a bit of a disaster. They were playing at a shitty little club somewhere in the middle of California. The central Valley, otherwise known as the Golden state's ass crack, was small minded and full of rednecks and farmers, which was not their usual crowd by a long shot. It brought a lot of ultra masculine chest banging metal heads to the show, who were always the most likely to boo Davey and his lipstick off the stage and pick a fight with him later. So judging by the circumstances, it was no surprise when two songs into their set Davey was already ducking beer bottles and swearing. Jade was ready to hightail it out of there and call it a goddamn night but Adam and Hunter seemed oblivious and Davey was taking it like a trooper, flipping the bird and blowing kisses when they called him a faggot, which was always everyone's favorite insult to use with Davey. Jade felt like a pussy, but they managed to finish the set successfully after security threw the douches out on their asses once something they threw actually knocked down a microphone and Davey's tantrum hit full throttle. 

The show ended mostly uneventfully, and after the band thanked the fans and most everyone had filed out of the club, they started dismantling stuff and cleaning up, toweling sweat off their necks and faces. Davey could tell it was going to be one of those nights. He was outside the club with Jade, carrying equipment back to their van, drenched, makeup smeared in rivulets down his face. Right there, leaning on their own, shitty means of transportation was a guy, sleeve tattoos and rippling, shirtless chest. Davey recognized him instantly as one of the trouble makers in the pit, one of the nervier ones who'd gotten himself tossed out for throwing stuff onstage. 

He was going to show this guy that just because he wore lipstick, he was still a force to be reckoned with. He watched the guy sway, plumes of his cigarette smoke curling into the air like the ghosts of dead swans. Their hazy white grey matched the weak moon sliver and Davey's mind started racing, gauging the factors that would either save his ass or kill him. The guy's state of inebriation. His size. His level of anger. Davey seemed to think all of these added up to a surefire victory. 

"Take this." Davey said quietly, handing the equipment he was carrying over to Jade, whose eyes became wide and alarmed, shoulders buckling a little under the added weight. Davey was cracking his knuckles, advancing on the guy in a calm, collected manner, hair safely out of his face in a headband. don't to it! Jade's mind screamed, but he found his throat too parched to say anything, to offer any warning. 

"We have a problem here?" He asked the guy evenly, crossing his arms once he got a few feet away. The man tossed his cigarette on the pavement and put it's glowing cherry out with the toe of his boot, coughing into his palm. He smelled like beer and horse piss, even from where Davey was standing. Jade stood wary and dumbstruck, carrying about ten thousand pounds of shit but still feeling completely useless. 

"Yeah we have a problem, you little prick." The guy slurred, heaving himself up from the van to approach Davey. "You cheated me out of twenty bucks and a round of drinks. I paid to see a punk band, not some pussies running around in makeup." He spat, fanning his fingers out threateningly. 

"You would have gotten what you paid for if you hadn't been an asshole and managed to get thrown out. It's not my fault fucks like you behave like children." Davey quipped, cocking his head. Like always, he knew he was in control. He was the underdog, he was the boy in lipstick, and all of these sorts thought they could beat him to a pulp in about 2.5 seconds, and with good reason. But because he was always underestimated, he always had the upper hand, and because they were usually half drunk anyway, they were easy to beat. 

"I really suggest you get out of here, alright?" Davey said sweetly, tapping his foot. 

"Dave, come on. Leave him alone." Jade said weakly from behind him, his voice fizzling out and dying like a wet firework before he even got started. Davey glared over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. 

"Dude, shut up. I got it." He assured Jade, who was quaking in his sweaty Adidas. It wasn't so much he didn't think that if the fight got out of hand he couldn't step in and help Davey out, but more that he really hated the idea of Davey being in any pain at all. The boy in the lipstick, he was so goddamn pretty, and sure he could throw a punch or two to defend himself, but Jade didn't want to imagine that pretty face being smashed or anything. Davey was...Davey, and on Jade's internal list of bad things that could happen, anything detrimental to Davey was number one. He really wished the rest of the guys would   
come out of the club and back him up.

"I ain't leaving, you faggot."

"You think I've never heard that one before? Extraordinarily original, being called--" Davey was caught mid-monologue when the guy threw a punch, aiming for that pretty face but of course Davey was ready, ducking the rather slow, drunken fist and coming back quicker with his own, decking the man in the face with a right handed jab. Jades eyes were already shut tight, heart pounding in his chest. A sick feeling washed over him like ice water. He could hear the dull crunch of damaged cartilage echoing in his head, accompanied by the weird, out of character mature condescending voice Davey used with theses sorts and interviewers. 

The guy dropped like a sack of flour off a ten story building and crumpled nosily to his knees, cursing up a colorful tapestry of profanity and clutching his bleeding nose. Then the secret was out, the boy with the lipstick could fuck you up, so instantly the back up was filing in. A nearby parked car's doors clattered open, and the guys buddies were charging out clumsily, wailing like a pack of hyenas cheated out of their scavenged meal, ready for a feeding frenzy. "What the fuck dude, you little bitch!" one of them yelled and before Jade could do anything they were on Davey, one holding his arms behind his back while he kicked wildly at the others. There were four of them, not including the idiot on the pavement with a broken nose, spouting liters of warm blood all over the parking lot while he clutched at his slugged face.

Jade stared, horrified, for as moment before his sense came back to him and he dropped all ten thousand pounds of equipment on the asphalt and sprinted back to the club, screaming for his brother or Adam, the only two guys he knew tougher than Davey. Well, Adam was tougher, or at least he was taller and more built. Smith was just psycho, and if someone messed with one of his friends he was out of the gates like a racehorse after a gunshot. This was a constant sore spot for Jade, that his baby brother was who he had to call when Davey got in over his head. It was pretty humiliating. 

Bursting explosively through the back door, Jade tore around the backstage corner to the bar, where Hunter, Adam, and Smith were sitting in a row, chatting with the bartender and laughing about something. 

"Hey, Jade, we were just wondering where you guys were, we were about to send a search party." Hunter said amiably, holding up a water bottle. "Free hydration, man, to apologize for the assholes." 

"Guys, guys, it's Davey," Jade panted, ignoring Hunter and his free hydration. "He got into fight, but he's way out numbered, and--" Jade didn't even have time to sputter a finishing last sentence before Smith was out the door, upsetting his barstool in the process and sending it to the dirty, beer puddled floor with a noisy ruckus. 

"Whoa, Jade calm down." Adam said, standing up and looking concerned, slapping Jade's back. "Let's go check it out." 

They all raced to the parking lot after Smith, snagging hips around corners and tripping over cords and whatnot. Once at the scene of the crime, Davey was nowhere to be spotted, and Smith aka Homicidal Inebriated Maniac was single handedly attempting to beat the shit out of four full grown men, one of which looked like he'd taken a nasty kick to the jaw on Davey's part, the others pissed but otherwise intact. "Shit..." Adam mumbled as he and Hunter rushed into the mess too, screaming at the guys. They were staring to stagger away, and Adam was holding Smith back by his tattooed, sinewy shoulders. Smith was wailing obscenities at the group and all the gel had melted out of his mohawk so it hung in damp, fallen spikes around his flushed face, which was elaborately screwed up into a scream. 

He was booming something about picking on someone their own size, to which they responded with that they were sorry, they didn't usually hit girls but this was too tempting. And that sent everyone off again, screaming and punching and all of the things that Jade wished he would have thought to do in order to defend Davey's honor. 

Davey. 

Where the hell was he? Jade scanned the parking lot in panic, eyes finally falling on a huddled figure on the pavement that was slowly attempting to drag itself up, shaking mussed braids from it's eyes. Yup, Davey got the worst of a fight for the first time since high school. Jade ran to meet him there, dropping to his knees to survey the damage. Well, if he couldn't win a fight for Davey, he might as well try and fix the guy up. 

"Hey, Dave, are you okay?" He said gently, offering Davey a hand and hauling him to his feet. He was a little unstable and almost toppled over again, gritting his teeth and fisting two shaky hands into Jade's threadbare Smiths tee shirt and almost ripping the sweaty, pre-torn thing off his body. "Hey, hey, hey take it easy," Jade said, alarmed. He held Davey up by the waist, keeping a shoulder lodged under his armpit so he was carrying most of his weight. 

"Son of a bitch" Davey swore under his breath, looking over Jade's shoulder to judge the current status of the fight he'd essentially started with his fuckin' pretty face of all things. Smith had mostly scared all the guys away, and now the two groups were just yelling shit at each other in this stupid, childish manner. There was a broken beer bottle separating them, it's shattered amber remains an unspoken barrier neither party was crossing with anything but insults. Davey cringed as he tried to stand up on his own. 

"Nah, let me" Jade said, clawing at Davey to stay put. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Quit." Davey batted his hands away. "Dude, I totally could have taken that guy, I really could." He said, gingerly sifting his hands through his braids, fingers coming back crimson and sticky from a bloody spot on his hairline. Jade lifted a careful finger to test the seriousness of the injury but Davey flinched away, blocking Jade's advance. "Stop, I said I'm fine." 

"Okay, whatever." Jade snapped. He hated that Davey was acting like this, especially because it was really out of character. 

Before the tour, when they’d been writing Black Sails, they’d spent hours and hours holed up in Davey’s room lounging on his bed just writing song after song and playing chess, living solely off each other and writing. They touched all the time, sharing beds and wrestling each other and all but fucking...well, not quite that far but shit had been intimate between them. But since the tour, Davey had been stand offish and aloof, always a few feet away from Jade and going as far as shrugging his hand off if Jade patted his shoulder in a friendly way or something. It unnerved Jade, made him wonder if Davey was alright. He kept a palm open on the gentle curve of Davey's lower back, however, to make sure that if he passed out or something he'd be able to rescue him from cracking his head open even more. 

"It's probably just a scratch, head wounds bleed a lot. I fell face first on the cement at one point, I think it happened then...goddammit, I swear I could have beat the shit out of that guy." 

“I bet you could have, but he was a pussy and he brought ammunition because he knew he wouldn’t be able to take you alone.” Jade joked, helping Davey walk over to the rest of the band, who were taking turns ranting over how much they hated the central valley. Smith was huffing solemnly and stalking around totally pissed, wadding his white wife beater up into a fierce little ball and hurling it at the van. 

When Adam and Hunter saw Davey they gave him rough hugs, ruffling his hair and totally ignoring the way he cringed in pain. “Guys, fuck, I’m all beat up will you lay off?” He sort of laughed, shoving at Adam’s shoulders and spitting a mouthful of diluted blood at him half heartedly. “See? Fuckin’ beat up, man,” His words slurred a little but no one seemed to notice but Jade, they just chuckled, admired his head wound and sort of pushed him to the van with a bro-ish arm punch. 

“Sit down, we’ll finish packing up and then head to the hotel.” 

Davey sat in the back seat, still breathing hard and waiting for his shot nerves to calm down. His heart was pounding with adrenaline, and he closed his eyes and focused on it, tried not to think about how fuckin' Jade acted like a deer in the headlights back there when the fight started, all doe eyed and terrified like Davey getting smashed was the worst possible thing he could think of. Jade did a lot of things that pissed Davey off, mostly because they were really misleading. Davey determined the best way to deal with Jade was to sort of ignore all the confusing habits he had. It made things easier. 

A light, dusty breeze was blowing, and like everything else in the central valley it smelled vaguely like cow manure. Davey blinked, squinting out the open door of the van to watch the rest of the guys picking hefty equipment up and loading it, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt that he wasn't helping. His physical pain felt mild and far away, aside from the hot, dull throbbing in his head where it had hit the pavement. Everything else was minor, even the pretty considerably gashes on his neck and stomach, even the black eye, the blow-induced swelling under his tee shirt no one could yet see. He tried to watch his band mates. They kept on swimming in his line of vision, getting blurred and fuzzy around the edges, reminding Davey of how everything looked after he spent an entire day swimming in a chlorine pool. He coughed, fairly proud of the way his mouth was bitter with the sharp, metallic taste of blood. There was nothing wrong with getting beat up in his book, he liked the scars and it was always fun to have a couple of wounds to nurse for awhile...plus, people took care of him. He missed that. 

They finished loading up the van, and Adam sidled into the driver's side of the seven-seated automobile, Smith in the passenger side. Smith was the usual driver, but he was a little too drunk and a little too pissed off to do the job effectively, so tonight he remained the disgruntled co-pilot. 

'Dave, you should go into the back back so you can sleep." Jade said, sharing the middle back with Hunter and craning his neck around to stare at Davey, expression warped and extremely perturbed. Davey blinked again, trying to shake the weird, soft-edged haziness. 

"Will you leave me alone, mommy? I'm fine." Davey said, rolling his eyes but crawling to the last row of seats anyway. Adam started up the car and he leaned into the window, sighing so a bruise of condensation bloomed on the glass from his breath. 

Because everything in the central valley was spread out across impressive spans of crops, the towns were few and far between. This meant gas stations and hotels could charge essentially whatever they damn well pleased because there wouldn't be an option for another 70 miles. Smith, being the smart tour manager he was, researched the hell out of central valley hotel prices and decided the Travelodge in Fresno was a better deal than any of the hotels in Bakersfield. Sure, it was an hour and a half long drive to Bakersfield, but when budgets were tight, they were willing to drive an extra 50 miles or so. 

Davey couldn't tell how much time had passed, but it seemed like too long. Things were getting fuzzier and fuzzier, more dreamlike. He felt awesome. Sounds were getting longer and higher, like a pat of butter spread thin over some toast. Hunter and Jade were talking only feet in front of him but he felt like he was in a fishbowl and they were humans outside, admiring his gold scales, voices getting louder and softer, louder and softer in this nice pattern he couldn't quite figure out. It didn't matter though, everything was going to be just fine.

"Whoa." Davey said with emphasis, and everyone got quiet. 

"What?" Hunter asked, reaching into the back back seat and flicking Davey on the ear. Davey didn't respond negatively, which wasn't exactly comforting. "Dave?"

"Uh, are you guys talking weird?" He asked, voice too soft. Jade sensed something wrong immediately, and he and Hunter exchanged glances, eyebrows raised. 

"I'm climbing back there with you Dave, you can bitch but I don't care." Jade said, note of finality in his voice. 

"Okay, suit yourself." Davey said huffily. He giggled. Giggled? Yeah, something was wrong. 

Jade clambered back, too many legs and elbows trying to get into a tight space. Davey watched him with mild amusement, wishing he had the energy to tell everyone that he was fine and really didn't need a babysitter back here, especially if that babysitter was Jade. However, all he could muster was a weak hissing sound., like air being let out of a soda can.

"You should lie down." Jade said, dragging Davey's head into his lap. Davey refused to be manhandled like a kitten into snuggling anywhere near Jade's nether regions, so he fought him off until Jade settled for having Davey sag against him, head on his shoulder. "That's better."

"No it isn't, you're making me into your bitch" Davey muttered, voice muffled by Jade's neck. Jade smelled wonderful, like aftershave and hair gel and tangy show-sweat, all of which pleasantly masked the faint, far away ghosts of cigarette smoke and beer from the club. Davey really loathed everything, he really wished he hadn't gotten himself into a fight because this was fucking torture. 

"Yeah well, that's what you get for getting your ass kicked, Dave." Jade assured him, rubbing his back. That felt nice, Davey thought, and he kind of relaxed, trying to pretend that this wasn't Jade he was all spread out on and some other random person who smelled nice. But no, that was hard because it smelled like Jade, so Davey was pretty much fucked. He tried to say, I'm fucked but it came out this wordless moaning sound. Better anyway, he wasn't making sense, not even in his own head.

"What did you say?" Jade asked. His hand was rubbing up along Davey's side in this way he thought was very platonic. Jade was kind of glad Davey had gotten himself knocked out because it gave him this really great excuse to touch the guy, take care of him, and otherwise reclaim the masculinity that had so cruelly been stolen when Davey got tough and Jade stayed skinny. 

"I'm all wet."

"What are you talking about? Where, man?"

Davey wiped his face and showed Jade whatever was mysteriously making it slick and coppery, this warm, sticky fluid that kept on dripping from his brow and onto his lip, where it would stay because he was too sleepy to lick it off. 

"Oh my god, Dave! You're fuckin' bleeding all over the goddamn place!" Jade yelped, pushing Davey off and cupping his face in two hands. Davey's eyes couldn't quite focus, and they were squinted tight. The blood looked black on his face, smeared on cheek bones like war paint. Jade's heart was thudding hammer-like in his chest, breath tight and constricted. 

"What, Dave's bleeding?" Hunter said, craning his neck around to regard the mayhem in the back seat. "Jade, need a towel or something? "

"Yeah, and can you turn the light on?" Jade fumbled across the divider between the two back seats, taking the shitty, mostly empty first aid kit from Hunter that contained predominantly tissues, condoms, Q-tips, and Advil. The tissues would have to do; he held them in a shaky fistful to Davey's bleeding forehead. He took Davey's utter lack of complaint to signify that he wasn't faking the bleeding fest or anything and he seriously did take a considerable blow to the head. 

"Here, water bottle." Hunter said, wrestling the already bloody clump of tissues away from Jade and sloshing some water onto it before handing it back. "Clean him up, try not to get it on the seats." 

"Jesus fuck, Dave, you really managed to screw yourself up this time." Jade scoffed, his voice coming out flippant, but belying the acrid taste of real concern on his tongue. 

"Hardcore." Davey said, picking at the crust of blood that had formed in the corner of his mouth. "God, my head really fucking hurts."

"Yeah, no shit, you probably have a concussion." Jade dabbed insistently at the scab forming at Davey's hairline, letting drips of water slip down his cheeks like tears, pink in the glowing overhead light. It looked like kool-aid. Jade was feeling kind of sick. 

"Adam?" Jade called to the front seat. 

"Sup man? Why's the light on?" Adam met Jade's eyes in the rear view mirror, brow creased in two with worry.

"Yeah, what's going on? Is Dave still alive?" Smith asked, voice still tainted with anger. "I swear, I coulda killed those bastards." 

"Uh, I think he has a concussion." Jade answered, struggling with the bottle of Advil and trying to open it with one hand. Hunter rolled his eyes, snatching the bottle away from him like he was some incompetent infant . "Give that to me." 

"I do not have anything!" Davey said frantically, looking up at Adam with pleading eyes. "I'm totally fine! My head hurts but otherwise I feel fuckin' great, okay Jade? You overprotective bitch." He tried to punch Jade affectionately in the shoulder but totally missed and swung at the air in front of him. 

"Right, you're fine. You're not making sense." 

"Don't listen to him, Adam, you just keep driving." Davey slurred, squinting miserably in the light, pupils awfully dilated for how bright he seemed to think it was.

"Turn that motherfucker off, man." He mumbled, once again laying back down into Jade, bleeding all over his shoulder. Jade thought it would be nice or comforting or something to wrap his arms around Davey, which he did, pulling his small tight body close to him. Davey let it happen, but he knew he would regret this infinitely when he was lucid. He tried to distract himself by staring blearily at the side of the van in all it's dirty, ill upholstered glory. Fuck being in Jade's arms, fuck getting the shit beaten out of him. 

"This blows." Davey said, too loud. "Like, it sucks major cock." And then Davey burst into hysterical laughter, shuddering against Jade like he was electrocuted, sputtering and kind of drooling all over his arm. Adam looked to Smith, alarmed. 

"He definitely has a concussion." 

"Well, we need to get him to a hospital, right?" Smith answered, shrugging. "There should be one in Bakersfield, an emergency room for sure." 

"No emergency room!" Davey yelped, trying to sit up and instead flopping all over Jade like an overcooked spaghetti noodle. 

"Seriously man, no emergency room," Adam said, shaking his head. We'll wait forever, and all they're going to do it bandage him up, and we can do that just as good. He needs to get to the hotel and rest, not sit up for hours in some crowded emergency room with puking little kids and dying old ladies and shit." 

"Oh come on!" Jade said, readjusting his grip on the wet tissues, making sure he was pressing hard enough to stop the bleeding. "He could need stitches, and what if something is seriously wrong? Then what?"

"Jade, we should really just get to the hotel. Dave's fine, he always is, right Dave?" Hunter asked, offering Davey what remained of the water bottle, which was enough to swig down the two Advil resting unobtrusively in his other palm. Davey nodded, taking the water but refusing the painkillers. "I'll be fine guys, I just need a shower and sleep." 

"No! Dave. You're bleeding from a massive head wound. You need to go to the hospital." Jade said firmly, holding Davey at arms length from the shoulder and shaking him and gently as possible, just to get his fucking point across. Davey's face was pale and blanched, but he had a detached, dreamy smile on that really freaked Jade out. "Dude, whatever happened to punk rock? Just give it a day, I'll be good tomorrow." He said weakly. 

"Yeah Jade, punk rock." Smith said, shrugging, officially joining the other side, aka the Loser Douche Bag Asshole side. Jade gawked at his brother in disbelief, glaring at him. 

"You guys are seriously going to let Dave bleed to death in my lap, aren't you? " Jade snapped, lowering Davey so his bloody head was pillowed on his thigh, noting the way Davey cringed visibly when he moved him. Great. 

"No, man. You're going to make sure he doesn't die, just keep an eye on him." Adam said cheerfully without even bothering to look at Jade in the rearview and instead keeping his full attention on the road. Jade supposed this was good enough for everyone else in the car, leaving Davey's massive head wound gushing blood all over Jade in the back seat, making it his responsibility because after all, he was the skinniest one and had no other purpose aside from nurse or something. 

"You guys are so fucking stupid..." Jade grumbled, throwing his handful of wet, bloody tissues into the front seat, watching it narrowly miss his brother's ear. "At least get me more of those." 

"Calm down, college boy!" Adam leered. "You know, before you came along and joined the band, we got hurt all the goddamn time and no one ever bitched so much about going to the hospital. Trust us, he'll be fine."

Right on cue, Davey started mumbling nonsensically and burrowing his face into Jade's stomach, like he was trying to scratch an itch. With his teeth. Jade knew better than anyone else that this was an utterly ominous sign. Davey used to be physically affectionate, even to the point of it being a little weird, but now he wasn't at all. Jade spent enough time wishing things were the way they'd been during writing the album, craving for Davey to sling an arm around his shoulder, place a sloppy kiss on his cheek, anything at all, that he knew this behavior was abnormal. Under normal circumstances it would have been welcome, definitely. But not now, when Davey was clearly delirious from hitting his head and Jade was only touching him because he thought Davey might not remember it in the morning. Jade supposed this was what it would be like if either of them drank, and had a weird pang of longing and confusion. 

It had been too goddamn long, and Davey was too goddamn tired of fighting all the fucking time to fight anymore. So he kind of gave up. He knew he really shouldn't be doing this, letting Jade touch him, letting his own fucking face voluntarily seek aggressive physical contact in Jade's shirt...but he couldn't help it. He had a concussion, right? If he had a concussion, his weird desires and actions and otherwise inappropriate behavior would easily be explained away in the morning. If he did anything really awful, any of the things he spent so much time fighting and trying not to give into...well, he could always blame it on the concussion. So that's how his lips ended up buried in Jade's tee shirt, only a muslin thin ghost of old fabric separating skin from skin. If Davey kept on thinking like this, he was going to get a hard on. 

But he could always blame that on the concussion, too. 

"Dave, open your eyes." Jade's voice was soft, low, gravely. Like it always was, only with more weird golden tones. It send blood rushing straight between Davey's legs like he'd watched a whole hour's worth of porn, and he was glad it was dark and he cold bring his legs together unnoticed. Goddamnit! His mind screamed. Jade's voice was suddenly the color of the last two mouthfuls of cola left in a Mexican Coke bottle held up to the sun, warm, brown, sugary, acidic, terrible for you. Davey was pissed of because he'd never be able to remember this, he'd never be able to paint that fucking color because he sucked at art. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jade said. 

"Oh no." Davey sounded mortified.

"Yeah. awkward."

"Fuck, was I thinking aloud?" Davey said, but it came out all slow and botched and lazy sounding. God it was exhausting to talk. "What did I say?" Davey was a little worried now, because if Jade caught him prattling on about the color of his voice or his inexplicable boner then he'd really be in deep shit. He could always blame the concussion. 

"Just something about how you suck at art." Jade shrugged. 

"Well, I do."  
"Yeah, but it's okay. You draw good bunnies. And stylized penises." 

"Anyone can draw a stylized penis, it's two circles and a...whatever the fuck that shape is." Davey mumbled, rolling onto his back reluctantly and squinting up at Jade, who was looking quite terrifying, looming over him and holding a mini-flashlight, of all the threatening torture tools, brandishing it like an anal probe. He was wearing one of those stretchy black chokers made from multiple, woven plastic threads that third grade girls wore all the time. How faggy, Davey thought, which made him feel better. 

"If you shine that in my eyes I'll slug you right in the fuckin' face." Davey warned.

"I'd like to see you try, Mr. I-got-my-head-bashed-in-and-now-I-can't-string-three-words-together."

"Oh, fuck you." Davey sighed, reaching up and brushing Jade's cheek with his hand in this almost tender way. Jade thought it might have been a failed attempt at flipping him off, which was an understandable accompaniment for the phrase fuck you, but it didn't exactly seem like it. He decided it was in his best   
interest to ignore both the insult and the dubious physical contact.

"I need to see if you're pupils are dilating the right way," Jade said, waggling the flashlight at Davey, who immediately covered his eyes. 

"Like hell you do, don't you already know I have a concussion?" 

"Yeah, but…"

"Dude, no flashlight. Just leave me alone." Davey said, but he wasn't acting at all like he wanted Jade to leave him alone. He instead was heaving himself out of Jade's lap and sitting so he slouched against him, face nuzzling into his chest. Well, Jade supposed this was an improvement to getting his hand literally slapped like a naughty catholic school boy on a nun's bad side whenever he touched Davey. 

He awkwardly patted Davey's hair, winding a braid around his index finger and noticing it was stiff with blood. Davey was way too clean of a guy to actually go through the painstaking, unwashed process of getting dreadlocks, so he had this cop-out version where he had a bunch of ratty braids all over his head. It sounded like it looked stupid, but it was actually kind of cool, this head-full of worm-like growths in a huge mess all over the place, flipping when he performed, otherwise tucked back under a stretchy headband. Davey often had dubious fashion choices, most of which revolved around this self conscious desire to look exactly like he didn't care what he looked like. Jade thought that maybe Davey was getting over his perpetually-strategically-carefully-put-together-punk-mess-phase, because he's started wearing make up a lot lately. It wasn't totally the dawn of a new era in Davey's style, however, because he still had this ridiculous hair that looked like it went through a meat grinder or something. 

Davey was having a hell of a time snuggling Jade. Once he got used to the whole, I can do essentially anything right now because I have a head injury! idea, getting down to business and taking full advantage of his concussed state was wonderfully easy. He rubbed his cheek into Jades neck, letting his mouth open so he could actually taste the salt-remnants from an hour ago's show sweat. Jade didn't even flinch away or make a snarky comment, because of course, Davey had a head injury! This was working out miraculously. It would be better if Davey could hear right, or see right, or if his head wasn't thudding like a fucking bass drum. But you got what you paid for, and this was an okay trade off, as far as Davey was currently concerned. 

"Where's that towel?" He asked Jade. It made perfect sense at the time. 

"What towel?" Jade asked exhaustedly, humoring Davey, attempting to hear the main gist of what he was saying over Smith's drunken wailing and flailing and Hunter's snores. He tried not to shiver at the way Davey's breath licked damply at the back of his ear. This was a really interesting position Davey had gotten himself into. Jade was going to have a field day tomorrow teasing him when he was fully lucid and probably just as cold and un-touchy-feely as the rest of the tour, and therefore would most likely be mortified at his current, cuddly state of being. 

"You know, the towel...the one...never fucking mind. I don't know."

"It's alright." Jade answered awkwardly, kind of letting his arm rest over Davey's shoulder, allowing Davey to assume the exact position of a girlfriend snoozing on her boyfriend after a long car ride. Yes, this was prime ammunition for tomorrow's humiliation fest...not only did Davey get his ass kicked, but he was acting like Jade's girlfriend. If Jade responded with the appropriate amount of amusement and horror to Davey and the rest of the guys tomorrow, it would effectively disguise that this was the newest highlight of his romantic life in god knows how long.

In the front seat, Adam kept on stealing glances over his shoulder or in the rearview mirror, distracted because the drive so far was a relatively solo jaunt speeding down the boring-as-fuck 99 freeway where dairy cows on either side of the highway were their only company. He thought he could distinctly see the suspicious outline of Davey, in whatever messed up state he was in, sleeping on Jade. Which wasn't too weird, after all he had a head injury. But Jade, Jade's behavior was the troubling half of this picture. From where Adam was sitting, it seemed like Jade was holding the guy, lips buried in his gross, blood-crusty hair and letting his hands rub gently over his side and shoulders, caressing, if you will. 

Maybe there was some kind of perfectly acceptable explanation, like Davey was in pain and Jade was trying to comfort him, (and because Jade was sort of a pussy , this sappy way was the only way he knew how,) or perhaps it had just been entirely too long since Jade had gotten any action what so ever and cuddling his half-passed out friend in the backseat was sufficient enough to get him through one more day of being a miserable, lonely bastard. Adam elbowed Smith, jabbing his thumb at the back seat. 

"Look." Said Adam plainly, one eyebrow raised. 

"What?" 

"Dave and Jade." 

"...so?" Smith was always oblivious to everything, probably because his hands were perpetually groping someone or another, regardless of gender or anything. Smith liked to piss people off and fuck shit up, and grabbing people's balls was a great way to achieve this lofty goal. Physical contact was always a means to an end with Smith, and had little to do with love or sex. 

"They're all over each other." Adam said, shrugging. "What are they doing?" 

"I don't know, man, looks like Jade's just trying to take care of Dave." Smith said. He was chewing on a straw that Adam didn't know the origins of, which probably meant he found it on the floor of the van, rolling around with the other trash, used napkins and empty coke-slurpee containers from 7-11. 

"Huh." 

"It's no big deal, it's only for tonight" Smith assured him, spitting the straw out at Adam's face. 

And that seemed to be the assumption that everyone was operating under tonight. 

~*~

When they finally arrived a the hotel, Davey was barely awake, staggering out of the van with Jade carrying the majority of his weight. Hunter helped them to the door while Smith and Adam checked in, trying to steal Davey away into the elevator as quickly as possible before any one at the desk could spy and comment on his bleeding head wound. 

"Well, this is pretty." Davey said dopily, pushing every single one of the buttons in the elevator, leaving smudgy, sticky blood finger prints on a few of them which Jade wiped off with the hem of his shirt. 

"It looks like every other hotel we've ever stayed in, Dave." Hunter said, entertained. 

"It's nice. I like it." Davey's words slurred sloppily together like two kinds of ice cream melting into the same bowl, two colors blending sickly in the creamy puddles at the bottom. Jade tried to set him upright, holding his waist and letting Davey's head loll onto his shoulder, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of Jade's pants. Awkward. Hunter looked away and didn't say anything, like he was embarrassed.

They made it to their hotel rooms uneventfully. They currently only had a means to split three rooms between a whole bunch of guys, between the roadies and Fritch the merch man and the band. There was a neat little rotating share-schedule, and when things got too unbearable to be in tight quarters, Jade literally just took a sleeping bag and lugged it out under the van and slept there. Davey and Jade were technically scheduled to be in separate rooms this particular night, but seeing as to how Jade had somehow been designated official Davey Caretaker, this posed a bit of a problem. 

"He needs to take a shower and wash all that shit off." Hunter said, holding the remaining two keys to the rooms Fritch and Porkchop and RJ and the rest weren't currently occupying.

"Yeah, but he shouldn't do it alone." Jade reminded them, standing awkwardly in the hall practically carrying the guy. He hated how they were taking about Davey like he wasn't here with them. 

"Thanks for volunteering, Jade." Adam said perkily, clapping his hands together. "That settles it then, Dave's gonna shower, and Jade here offered to stand guard and make sure he doesn't slip and bash his head in. Considering that I drove and need my fuckin' beauty sleep, I get the other room with Hunter and Smith." He looked expectantly at Jade, wordlessly daring him to bitch about it, and therefore get his   
masculinity goddamn questioned once again. 

"You guys are assholes." Jade said for the millionth time that night, ripping the key out of hunter's hand aggressively, glaring at the lot of them. 

"Think about it though, bro, at least you each get your own bed." Smith said in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring manner but came out sort of mocking, like everything else in the world Smith said. Jade didn't respond, just shot death glares at the stupid fucking bitches who were going to actually sleep tonight while he was stuck playing doctor with a confused, concussed Davey Fucking Havok who was hard enough to deal with when he wasn't delirious. Wonderful. He slammed the door behind him. 

The second they stepped in the room Davey almost face planted on the carpet, which would have left a big, red, expensive stain right in the center of the universe Jade would have to scrub off desperately. Luckily he caught him just in time, and instead Davey's knees bucked and they both collapsed gracelessly in a pile of limbs. Davey cracked up, laughing hyena-like in this hysterical, high pitch Jade didn't usually   
hear from him. 

"Jeez..." Jade bitched, helping pull a still unsteady Davey to his feet. "Can you try not to die?" 

"I really can stand, I'm just sorta fuckin' really dizzy." 

"Yeah, whatever Dave. You need to sit down for awhile." Jade steered Davey to the edge of one of the beds, jumpy and nervous. He couldn't figure out why he felt this way, whether it was from being an inadequately prepared, nominated against his will, uneducated medical professional all of the sudden, or if it was because it was just how it used to be, he and Davey in a room alone, together,. Plus, they were about to partake in activities which involved hot water and suds. That was enough to make anyone nervous. 

"So let me see your head." Jade said, voice shaking as he got on his knees in front of Davey to really examine him for the first time since the fight. His face was blanched white, dirty on one side where he'd managed to scrape himself while skidding across the black top. The main, troublesome gash was right in the center of his forehead, along the hairline. Bits of dirt and gravel clung to the wound, sticking sickeningly to the clotted blood that was profuse enough to drip down his nose and dry there, black red and rather alarming. 

"I bet I look badass." Davey said proudly, using his skinned knuckled to gently punch Jade's bicep. "Hey, this is cool."

"What's cool?"

"Just us, this whole big room. We could have a fucking slumber party, dude." 

Jade looked at him, eyes narrowed. He decided that Davey was a gigantic douche for getting hurt, because now he was acting weird and it was literally making Jade's stomach have butterflies and ice over every once and awhile when he said confusing shit like that. He didn't want to feel sick because Davey's concussed self was a cock tease. 

"You're a douche, Dave." 

"Yeah well, fuck you too." Davey griped, half smiling. Jade smiled stiffly back, stomach still roiling with nerves. He watched Davey stand up shakily, tottering a bit but otherwise alright. "I think I can shower."

"I believe you, but I'm gonna stand in there with you." Jade said seriously, trailing a few cautious feet away from Davey as he walked unsteadily to the bathroom. " In the room, I mean, not the shower." Jade added quickly, cringing at how that sounded. 

"You can stand wherever you want." Davey said distractedly, leaning down to turn on the water with a pained expression on his face before shucking his clothes off in one fluid motion. Jade stared in horror, then turned away abruptly, staring pointedly at the toilet which was, you know, just as sexy and whatever. His cheeks burned. 

"Uh, are you done?"

"Does it matter? We're in a band, Jade, you see me naked all the time." Davey reminded him, stepping carefully into the shower, bracing himself against the opposite wall. This statement was, unfortunately and otherwise, totally true. Davey abso-fucking-lutely loved being naked at all times, and was more comfortable than any guy Jade knew waltzing around the house wearing a grand total or nothing like it was completely normal. He was more than comfortable with his body, probably because he just happened to be endowed with an abnormally huge dick. Where Jade was a grower, Davey was definitely a shower, and he made it his goal in life to demonstrate this to everyone on the goddamn planet. That was another secret, the boy with the lipstick had a monster cock. 

"I know, it's just weird because you're fucked up and I feel like I'm, I don't know, violating you." Jade explained, finding the tiny, individual toiletries on the counter and unwrapping them, handing Davey the soap without looking at him. Davey snorted, apparently finding him funny. 

"Shampoo?"

"Here." Jade said, snapping into mother-hen alarm mode when he heard Davey nearly slip and fall to his death, followed by the squeaky sounds of someone who was wet climbing up linoleum walls. 

"Whoa." Davey mumbled, correcting his balance shakily. "I'm alright." 

At that moment, Jade made a quick, possibly detrimental life decision. He figured that the prevention of Davey's imminent, fall-induced death in a hotel was as good a reason as he could ever find to climb in the shower with him. Life Saving was not pervy, he was sure he could convince himself of that.   
"Dave, I'm coming in there with you." He said firmly, taking off his shirt. It was pretty ruined, blood stained and ripped, so he figured this was the last time he was ever going to wear it. "Or at least let me hold you up with one arm or something and stand by the edge." He finished weakly, standing awkward and cold and shirtless in the steam filled bathroom, gooseflesh prickling on his shoulders and chest even though it was technically pretty warm in there. Davey looked at him strangely, a perplexed forehead wrinkle starting to form between his brows, and Jade thought he might try to protest, but then the expression was gone, fading away and replaced with only exhaustion. 

"Okay, if it'll make you feel better." Davey said, shrugging, giving in, letting this fucking line be crossed because he had a head injury, okay? “Hop in.” 

Jade wasn’t quite ready to do that, so instead he shuffled to the very edge of the shower, reaching out with a terrified, tentative hand and placing it on Davey’s dripping shoulder to steady him. For the first, horrifying time, Jade saw Davey’s battle wounds and all their glory. And things were a lot worse than he’d anticipated. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dave, why didn’t you tell me about all this?!” Jade asked, gesturing with his free hand to Davey’s pale stomach, which was scraped raw and weeping blood in little droplets. There was dried blood on his stomach, on his ribs, on his throat, where it dripped in pinkish rivulets down to the gigantic flaming heart tattoo on his sternum. It matched the thing magnificently. 

“I don’t know, you were too busy arguing with Adam. Plus, my head hurt worse.” Davey shrugged, pointing to a spot on his neck and collar bone where a hefty purple shiner was forming, slick with the blood coming from an open scrape wound on his shoulder. “Look, here’s where I got punched...oh, and here too.” He tapped his jaw, where it was slightly swollen and dappled in violet. "I think I'll have a black eye in the morning too, cool right?"

“And all that on your stomach?” Jade said incredulously. The shower curtain was open enough that water droplets were flying all over the place, creating a mist that was steadily soaking Jade’s hair and making drips run down his face. He noticed Davey’s busted lip, the nasty looking swelling around his piercing.

“Uh, they pushed me face first on the pavement and I like, skidded. They were stronger than I was, you know? fuckers.” 

“Goddammit, Dave.” Jade swore under his breath, keeping a hand tight on Davey’s bicep and trying to ignore two disturbing facts: Davey was bleeding and hurt and that bothered him, and that Davey’s dick was right there, hanging damp and huge as always between his legs, cut and nice as far as dicks went. Jade took a deep breath, pretending he wasn’t so disturbed by Davey’s physical mishaps and accoutrements. 

“Yeah, it’s bleeding more than I thought...it was pretty hardcore, at one point one of the guys buddies was holding my arms behind my back while the other guys took turns hitting me...I fought too hard for them to do any real damage, that was when they tossed me on the floor, I think they were planning to kick or something, but then you brother came and saved my ass.” 

Jade internally cringed, kicking himself for not being the one who came and rescued Davey from getting seriously hurt. Even more seriously hurt than he was now. He wanted to defend himself, frantically covering up his skinny, pussy self buy saying, I would have stepped in and helped you but...but what? But I knew I wouldn’t have been able to take them on myself? Didn’t seem to matter for Smith. Because I’m scared of seeing you get hurt? None of these were adequate reasons, so Jade just fell back upon being a neurotic, over protective, emasculated bitch.

“You should really, really get stitches or something, you should be at the hospital, not here with me...” Jade babbled, looking way too perturbed by Davey’s account of the fight, brow furrowed in worry. 

“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” Davey said plainly, looking at the gash in his shoulder with deep concentration, poking at it with his index finger. “But this one is sort of bad, I don’t know where it came from...maybe I hit a rock...” He mused, and sort of started falling over before he even realized it, and Jade was upon him in a second, forgetting he had jeans on and just launching into the shower, making sure that if Davey fell, it would be on top of him. Luckily Davey caught himself good enough to stagger back up, using Jade as a means to heave himself to a standing position. His skin was pink with the heat of the water, cheeks flushed. The water spiraling down the drain was a sick, diluted red. 

“Jade, you’re wearing your pants.” 

“Yeah, so? I wasn’t going to let you fall.” Jade said huffily, looking down at his now soaking wet pants. It was just as well, considering that no matter the circumstances, being anywhere this close to Davey when he was naked would probably give him a raging hard on and that was the last thing he wanted. He figured 80 pounds of wet denim weighing him down would prevent anything at all from getting hard. Davey was really hanging on him now, arms tight around his neck, forehead pressed right against Jade’s skinny shoulder. 

“Ok?” Jade asked, letting his hands rest on Davey’s back, trying to ignore the wet slick feel of him under them. 

“Yeah, just dizzy.” Davey kept his eyes shut tight, waiting for the sharp wave of head pain to pass, completely aware of the bizarre fact that Jade cared enough about him to stand in the shower with his pants on and hold Davey up. What a friend. What a trooper. Davey was getting all choked up just thinking about it, kind of guilty that he was putting Jade through this, kind of satisfied that Jade liked him so much he was willing to be so goddamn motherly. 

Everything was so spacey, so hot, so vaporized. The plumes of steam circled around them , and Davey could feel his bare knees knocking against Jade’s denim clad ones. He felt like he was about to pass out, clenched hard into Jade, breath labored. Otherwise, this was great. He was in the shower with Jade. Jade wanted to be in the shower with him. They were practically frickin boyfriends by now, right? And if Davey did something about it, if he really solidified the fantasy, would it even fucking matter in the morning? Hell no, he had a head injury, remember? He was feeling fantastic. 

“What’s up?” He asked Jade, looking up at him through his wet hair. His voice sounded so husky, oh god that was embarrassing. He loved how Jade looked so fucking out of place, this drowned raccoon with eyeliner traces melted all down his chipmunk cheeks, eyes wide and terrified and so scared like he was really worried about Davey, really thought something was wrong, dripping all over the place with his hair plastered down like a helmet. 

“Uh, nothing.” Jade said, the last words he got out before Davey decided that he should kiss him. 

And that was that, Davey kissed Jade and really made it count. He slid a hand up Jade’s shoulder and held it as his neck, making sure to press hard, hold him there so Jade wouldn’t even think about pulling away, letting the warm water cascade down around their heads and slick their lips together. It was so wet that Jade hardly noticed when his tongue started flicking out to meet Davey’s, tasting the metallic, copper hint of blood and raw swollen skin. But as soon as he did notice it took over and their tongues swirled together, hungry and deep and now Jade was feeling light headed , too. Davey pulled away laughing, this low, disbelieving sound with his eyes closed and smudged in remaining makeup, his sockets looking like two black bruises. 

“Dude, did we just...kiss?” Jade asked slowly, not quite believing it. 

“That was really fuckin’ good, come back here.” Davey whispered, pushing himself flush with Jade who was officially panicking, standing there feeling like he was knee deep in quicksand because his pants were carrying so much goddamn water.

“No, wait, Dave...we, you, your head--” Jade rambled, hands tight around Davey’s wrists and trying to push him away but at the same time prevent him from slipping and dying. There was a red smudge on his naked stomach from where Davey had brushed up against him, and he caught himself feeling weirdly sad that it was melting away in the shower spray. 

“Shh, shh. Shut up, it’s good, right?” Davey said, eyes locking on Jades and holding them there, blazing and wide and completely lucid. It hit Jade hard in the stomach like a Mack truck, bowling him over before he could appropriately push Davey away and before he had time to register it, they were kissing again, the cut in Davey’s lip opening up and spreading warm into Jade’s mouth. Without even thinking about it he sucked at the wound, swallowing a diluted mouthful of Davey’s blood and spit, noticing and not caring that he still tasted vaguely of the pavement outside the club’s parking lot. His stomach lurched with desire, arousal curling tight and insistent in the pit of his gut, hands clenching desperately around Davey’s waist, against his spine. So much for the jeans deterring his ever persistent boner. They broke away momentarily, Jade swimming hazily in Davey’s vision, staring at Davey’s swollen and bruised lips. 

“Dave, this is really weird.” Jade said, meaning it. It was weird. It was awesome, but weird. 

“Shut up man, I have a concussion, remember?” 

“Yeah, people make out with the friends all the time when they’re suffering head injuries, seriously.” Jade was panting, letting his arms slide easily all over Davey’s water and gore lubricated torso, being careful to avoid the contusions and abrasions that marred his shoulders and stomach, red on white like blood spattered in snow. 

“Can you help me wash this shit off?” Davey asked, gesturing to the scarlet that still stained his throat and forehead, smeared gaudily like the innards of a busted watermelon, or maybe catsup. Jade nodded, a little dazed, and grabbed the soap, creating a lather in his hands and gently rubbing it into Davey’s wounds with a washcloth he’d managed to find among all the normal sized hotel towels. Davey flinched but put up with it, screwing his face up tight when the soapy water cascaded over his cheeks and brow. “Dude, don’t get that in my eyes.”

“I won’t.” Jade scrubbed away, gathering water in his hands and rubbing almost fruitlessly at the blood, which was melting away in sheets, trailing down Davey’s sternum and pooling in his navel. It wasn’t easy to wash off, almost like it was too oily to be water soluble. The rest of the shower was spent in silence, Jade slaving away over the wounded details of Davey’s body and Davey swaying here and there, leaning against Jade when his head started to throb, absentmindedly letting his hands traverse across the topography of his chest. Jade tried to keep is businesslike, professional, despite the fact his heart was hammering away in terror concerning this whole weird, line crossing business. He needed to hurry the operation along, pronto

After all, the water was running luke warm and he needed this to be over soon so he could get on with his life and get out of those godforsaken pants that were adding another person’s body weight in addition to his own, plus Davey’s. He gritted his teeth, ignoring how smooth Davey's flesh felt underneath him, pressed against him. His stomach wouldn't stop flip flopping, changing shape in side his body cavity like an amoeba under a microscope. Davey just kissed him. He just kissed Davey. They just made out. They were both dudes. They'd known each other practically forever. And Davey kissed him. And he liked it, he'd known he would. 

"I fucked up really bad, didn't I?" Davey sounded immeasurably proud over this fact, childishly psyched about the bruises he'd have to show off in the morning.

"Yeah, don't do it again." Jade scoffed, squeezing a dime sized amount of crappy, near-useless hotel shampoo into his palms and rubbing it into Davey's scalp, just for another excuse to keep on touching him maybe, even though this shower stuff should really be coming to a close. He rubbed at the greasy roots, where a show's worth of sweat and hair gel still lingered stickily, making a mess and mixing with the blood remnants. Davey sighed, relaxing into Jade and kind of purring. 

"That feels'nice." He mumbled, mouthing along Jade's collar bone in a more than friendly manner. Jade flinched, swearing under his breath. 

"Jesus Christ, Dave." 

"Dead and resurrected for the second coming, at your service." Davey chuckled, concussion-wit entertaining himself more than anyone else. 

"Shut up man, you hear what I said?" Jade said a little desperately, pushing Davey upright and staring at him with pleading eyes, still all sad and drippy looking, this poor pathetic rodent cat thing someone threw in the shower because they thought it would be funny. Davey still wanted to kiss him, so the effect was only partially damaging to Jade's masculinity.

"Yeah, you called me Jesus."

"No, dipshit, listen for a second…"

"I have a head injury, Jade." 

Jade inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a brief moment and waiting for the exasperation to pass like a wave of nausea. Davey always made a fool out of him, even when he had a godforsaken concussion. The little scrawny theater kid grew into this toned, handsome, no, beautiful fuckin' Prince of Bastard Darkness who could beat a bunch of frat boys up, and Jade...Jade was the skinny college kid now, the one who still looked exactly the same, not a day older than seventeen, a kid dressed up in his Daddy's work clothes or something. It was infuriating. Davey always, always made a fool out of Jade. 

"Will you listen to me? Quit getting hurt! It freaks me out and I don't like watching my brother bail you out." He begged, hands tight on Davey's wet, naked shoulders. This whole thing was very strange, considering that it followed them kissing, which was the strangest part of all. Way too much excitement for one night.

"Maybe not, but you like taking care of me, right?" Davey answered bluntly. Jade blinked at him, a little taken aback. At least he was being frank, and not coy, he didn't think he could handle Davey trying to be coy when his brains were leaking out the front of his head. 

"Yeah, I guess I do." Jade answered slowly, left with nothing to do but go solemnly back to his task of cleaning up Davey, who was smiling like a complacent little prick. They scrubbed in silence, Jade's hand planted firmly on Davey's lower back, looking anywhere but Davey's face and or dick. He scraped at the scabs with his nails, liking the way the scarlet gathered in half moons under them. Davey didn't protest. Finally, the worst of it was gone, leaving an ugly, swollen, and mostly scabbed over gash on Davey’s hairline, plus the hefty scraping on his shoulder, neck, and stomach. All in all, he was looking halfway passable. 

Jade turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and managing to drip all over the place, until the tile was one big puddle from his pants. Drying off just seemed futile, so he used one towel to mop up the floor and handed the remaining one to Davey, who staggered out of the shower after him, tottering a little but staying otherwise upright. 

"Weebles wobble but they don't fall down." Jade said, dead pan. 

"Shut up." Davey answered, flipping Jade off. Jade watched him awkwardly, searching for the happy medium between feeling like an over protective mother and a Peeping Tom. He held his breath while Davey toweled off his hair. He didn't even tuck the thing around his waist like a normal person when he was done, just tossed it over the shoulder. Fuckin' show off. 

Jade was in an interesting predicament. He really needed to go into the bedroom and grab their toothbrushes from his knapsack, but he didn't think he could stand another second in these fucking pants, which were chaffing and itching and weighing him way the fuck down. However, he didn't trust Davey to go get the tooth brushes considering that he was still utterly concussed, and just because he was acting a little more together didn't mean he was yet capable of doing any mundane tasks. After all, he couldn't shower alone, and he still kissed Jade on the mouth for a long ass time a few minutes ago. Red flag of Head Injury Symptoms. Not kosher for trumping totally solo into a new room after a hot shower and looking for something. So Jade had to make a decision: track gallons of water throughout the entire hotel room because he was stupid and showered in a pair of jeans, or strip down here in front of Davey and Davey's Monster Cock. 

"I can't believe you're still wearing those pants." Davey said, snapping Jade out of his intense internal conflict. Davey had swiped a palm across the fogged up mirror, and was currently making faces at himself using this window, bent naked over the bathroom counter, hands planted flat while he examined his battle wounds. He screwed up his face, pretending to look like he was in excruciating pain. Jade rolled his eyes, taking advantage of Davey's distracted state and attempting to peel out of his jeans, hating the way they stuck to his legs, revealing blinding white, hairy flesh in painfully slow strips. 

"I'm trying to get out of them."

"I can help you," Davey said like it was the most normal thing ever, meeting Jade's eyes in the mirror, kind of trying not to laugh at the way he was crowhopping lamely all over the place. 

"Uh, no you can't." 

"Yeah dude, I can, just hold onto something while I tug." 

"Dave, that's weird!" Jade said desperately, almost falling over but finally getting a leg free, feeling triumphant. "Not as weird as you kissing me, but up there. You know we're both naked, right?"

"I dunno what you're thinking, Jade, but you're the only one whose making this situation seem weird. You should relax, you sound insecure, dude. Denying being gay makes you seem gay." Davey leered.

Jade had just emerged successfully from the pants-struggle, finally fighting free and depositing them in a wet, dark heap on the tile like a long since drowned corpse. He stared open mouthed at Davey, one eyebrow raised incredulously. He was confused. He didn't quite understand how Davey was the one that kissed him, and he still was the one who seemed gay. 

"At least I don't go around kissing guys, Dave."

"You just go around, kissing them back." Davey turned around, looking at Jade in this very complacent, arrogant way that literally made all of Jade's organs disintegrate and slosh around noisily in his stomach. His brow sparked into sweat droplets, maybe because it was warm in there, fuckin' steamy as hell and really, really he needed those tooth brushes. It was hard to concentrate on any one thing for very long aside from his own and Davey's nudity, except for maybe the loaded things Davey was saying to him... perhaps they weren't so loaded on paper, but the way Davey was looking at him, his half lidded eyes, his cockiness at having the upper hand...Jade was terrified. 

"Uh, I'm gonna get our toothbrushes..." He responded awkwardly, backing out of the room before Davey lunged at him or something, really putting their twin-nakedness to good use and kissing him again. Not that Jade would have been all together opposed to more kissing, or nakedness, or anything at all in that vein happening with Davey. It was just that there were some slight technicalities.

He escaped to the bedroom, stumbling to the knapsack where he located their toothbrushes, cursing at himself and Davey's concussion all the while. He handed Davey his toothbrush (purple, with the bristles warped and mussed in ever which way, a far cry from Jade's own, neat red one) through the door, hardly looking at him. He brushed his own teeth in the other room, spitting the foam out in the hotel ice bucket in order to avoid spending any more quality time with nude Davey in tight quarters. He felt sullen, tricked out of having the upper hand by Davey's head injury. He really couldn't tell if Davey's actions were based on something he had felt for a long time that his concussion was allowing him to act on, or if the feelings were actually brought on by the concussion. The dubious nature of this fact was enough to keep Jade from letting Davey...flirt or whatever...all over him. The boy with the lipstick head a head injury. Jade couldn't take advantage of him, even if taking advantage meant letting Davey take advantage. 

Davey wandered into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging lazily from his mouth like he'd forgotten he left it in there. He spat it out on Jade's duffel, flipping damp hair out of his eyes and looking at Jade plaintively through the braids that remained mussed across his brow, cocking a his head to the side.   
"Long night, huh?"

"No shit." Jade breathed, still on guard, holding a pillow from the bed he'd chosen defensively in front of his cock like a chastity belt, even though he'd hastily put on boxers the second he'd found a pair. He watched, in horror, as Davey tugged on a pair of boxers himself and climbed into his bed. The one he was sitting on the foot of. The one whose pillow was between his legs.

"Dude what are you doing?"

"Getting into bed?"

"That's my bed. Get in your bed."

Davey rolled his eyes, snuggling down into the clean sheets and patting the empty space next to him. "there's room for you too, princess." He looked very out of place, this punk ass prince of darkness with his black eye and bruises like a spec of ink in a lot of perfect, hotel whiteness. 

"I'm not sharing a bed with you, Dave." Jade barked, glaring at him and his self-satisfied smirking. He looked like such a piece of shit, with those big sappy dark eyes, angular face, swollen bruises. This really, beautiful, charming piece of shit. Jade still glared, trying not to be fazed by his handsomeness. 

"Why not? I have a concussion, remember? What if I stop breathing in my sleep?"

"Then you'll die." Jade said firmly. 

"Come on Jade, they're double beds." Davey pouted, pointing to his head. "It hurts. You have to make sure I don't start seizing in my--"

"Ok! Fine, fine, you fuckin' brat, I'll sleep with you." Jade griped, wishing he could take the pillow from his crotch and slam it into Davey's face, or chest, or something...but knowing full well he'd feel guilty if he reopened any wounds or further damaged any bruises. He refrained, but only barely, ignoring Davey's beaming face. What a confusing dipshit. 

"Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah whatever." Jade mumbled, tucking himself. He made sure he was lying as far away as possible from Davey, flicking out the light without looking at him. "I hate you." 

Davey kind of laughed in response, the only solid thing in the suddenly dark room that Jade had to hold onto, a sharp sound in an endless vacancy. Jade felt lost, disconnected from everything but Davey's spacey laughter. He felt like he needed to say something, or else the never-ending echo of Davey's voice would keep him awake for the rest of his life. "Are you going to try and kiss me again?" He half joked, hating how shaky his voice sounded in the darkness both their eyes were slowly adjusting to. 

"Probably."

"oh." Jade said quietly, starting to sweat again. "Why?"

"Because...I have a concussion." Davey lied. His real reason for why he was planning on kissing Jade was more along the lines of that he fell in love with him sometime in then middle of writing the last album and The concussion just gave him permission, he knew that. He still wasn't quite sure if he believed Jade kissed him back, yet. It seemed more like a fantasy his concussed brain was fabricating to make his head feel better.

"You know, you never touch me anymore, when you're normal. You actually, um, avoid it." Jade stuttered, his heart pounding so loud Davey could probably hear it over there on his side of the bed. Whenever Jade got brave enough to say things he didn't think he was going to say, his body reacted so strongly, like it was preparing to run away from the potentially negative consequences of whatever stupid thing he'd said. He listened, panicking, for Davey to say anything. "It's not like I mind," Jade said quickly, "It's just--"

"No, you're right." Davey answered, for the first time tonight sounding anything but cocky and or delusional. Jade cold hear the bed springs and sheet shifting around under Davey's weight as he moved, sounding uncomfortable, anxious.

Jade swallowed loudly, a cracking noise in otherwise awkward silence. "Is there...uh, I mean, did I...do something, like, wrong?" Jade choked out, his face hot.

"No, I just didn't want to fuck up and accidentally..." Davey started, trialing off weakly. His bravado was gone because Jade was on to him, cover blown, and he was screwed. He should have known that Jade, with his fuckin' sociology degree, was going to notice if Davey changed his behavior to him or something. He felt stupid and exposed, but mostly reckless because whatever he was trying to prevent himself from accidentally doing he'd already done, while naked in the shower with Jade, and Jade hadn't freaked out for real yet. No, instead he was actually laying in bed next to Davey. That had to count for something. 

"Accidentally what?"

"Kiss you? Or whatever? Dude, I don't know, it doesn't matter now." Davey huffed. He felt like shit, his head was pounding and the sheets made his stomach sting every time they brushed across his scrapes. The air felt heavy and hot, charged with their conversation and making the bed crinkle with static electricity, shocking them, Jade still stiff limbed and stoic on the other side of the bed. But to hell with it, Davey had a concussion, and he didn't care anymore, so before he knew it he was reaching over, sliding across the smooth, dry skin on Jade's stomach. 

"Oh god." Jade said, tangibly tensing under his touch like an anemone inching back into its crustacean. Davey ignored it, scooting closer, letting his hands graze up Jade's chest, over his shoulders. Davey loved the way he felt, the terrified gooseflesh, the way he jerked away from him but at the same time seemed to long for more contact. He loved how scared Jade was, and under normal circumstances seeing that fear would send him into a spiral of apology, into stopping and never touching again. But his injury made him fearless, reckless, and somehow able to look past Jade's timidity and see that he wanted this, too. 

"Dave, quit." Jade breathed, voice shuddering like the taut muscles in his stomach. He was so. hard. right. now. It was probably the fastest hard-on he'd ever had in his life, this sudden, hot ache he was writhing at the mercy of, spasming under Davey's touch and blind with arousal. 

"Just let me, I want to." Davey begged, wiggling so he was flush against Jade's bucking body one hand holding them tight together by palming across his lower back, the other cupping a round, chipmunk cheek. He was painfully aware of Jade's erection nudging against his, the white hot skin, Jade's shallow, petrified breathing. He smelled sweet like toothpaste, sharp like fear. Davey leaned in to kiss him, their lips brushing minimally before Jade jerked away, trying weakly to push at Davey's chest. "I can't do this with you right now, you're fucked up, you have a concussion, I'd be--" Jade was immediately speechless, silenced by Davey's soft, searching hand fumbling under his waistband and closing around his dick with clear intentions. He saw static, his head practically splitting in two or something at the rough, dirty feel of his friend, his private, silent fantasy, touching him there. 

"You'd be what, violating me?" Davey panted against his lips before kissing him hard, invading his mouth with a desperate, minty and blood-metallic tongue. He bit at Jade's lips, sloppy with the late night and the thudding pain at his hairline, but Jade didn't seem to notice or care that there was too much spit and zero grace. 

"God, Dave, fuck, you're crazy," He gasped when they parted, Davey's hands ripping up and down his torso, tangling in his damp hair, tilting his head back so he could suck clumsily at the soft white skin over his pulse. It tickled like a motherfucker so Jade lost it and cracked up, trying to wriggle away from Davey's persistent, aggressive hold. Davey bit his chin, hard, and Jade just laughed even more, his stomach clenching and jumping under rough, searching hands. 

"What if you remember this in the morning, dude," Jade wheezed, turning his cheek half heartedly when Davey's lips sought his own again. "You better not pussy out on me and pretend it never..."

Jade's blathering was expertly silenced as Davey literally grabbed his jaw and forced their mouths together, worrying at the corners of Jade's mouth with his tongue, fraying his seams, grinding against him. And really, really this whole thing was too much, and all good intentions aside Jade was a guy and he had a hard on and he was thinking more and more about it and less and less about Davey's concussion and how it played into the current situation. They were kissing, and he wanted it, and to hell with everything else. 

"I'll let you suck me off," Davey whispered huskily against Jade's ear, pressing him flat on his back, knee between his legs making him fucking insane. He was serious, too, Jade could tell. 

"Let me? let me? Is sucking your goddamn dick a privilege?" Jade snorted, even though the idea of feeling the weight of Davey's cock resting warm on his bottom lip, slick with saliva, was actually not so bad at all. "I'm not gonna blow you when you're out of your mind." He said firmly, trying to convince himself as much as Davey. 

"Fair enough," Davey shrugged, disentangling himself from Jade's various, clinging limbs and sitting upright, feeling around Jade's waist for the hem of his boxers and tugging when he found it. "I'll blow you, then." He smiled, a big, shit eating grin. His lip ring glinted in the dark and Jade's dick practically exploded right there. 

Jade's chest was marble smooth and shuddering under Davey's swollen lips, and he licked absently at it, rushed and desperate and he supposed he was skipping the foreplay, but fuck, he didn't know what he was doing anyway. He had never sucked dick before, and although he'd been wanting Jade's for some time now, he'd never practiced, either. All he has was a basic, fundamental guy-knowledge of his own anatomy and what girls did that felt good on it, so he supposed that was pretty much enough. Or, it would have been if he was seeing and hearing clearly and didn't have a head wound and concussion to further complicate already elusive things. But whatever, he was a quick learner, so with a head injury he was just about average. He stared at Jade's dick: hard. throbbing. glistening with precum. All the things trashy erotica novels said it would be. Now he just had to remember what the heroines in said trashy novels did with their mouths aside from whine and simper, two things he was already very good at. 

With a fist at the base and a raging hard on himself, Davey licked the tip of Jade's dick with a hungry tongue, letting his lips close around it, breathing hard because he was turned on and nervous and sort of in pain, with all the wounds on his body salted with new sweat. Jade immediately went rigid underneath him, placing a gently hand at the base of his neck to steadily guide him down, sort of whispering things Davey couldn't make out over the arousal and concussion ringing in his ears. 

Jade shuddered under Davey's clumsy mouth, which was sloppy and graceless but still hot and wet as fuck. Plus, it belonged to Davey which was already enough to make a pretty terrible blow job rival the best ones he'd received from the most talented of girls, which probably meant that Jade was queer or something equally awful and life threatening. Davey felt amazing, and what he was lacking in skill he made up for in enthusiasm, bobbing his head eagerly and making these horrible, sexy noises of satisfaction that vibrated around Jade's cock that just about killed him. He could feel Davey's teeth graze him every once and awhile, which was terrifying, but he just held his breath, trusting Davey regardless of his concussed state. After all, this would be over soon because he didn't think he was lasting long.

Davey was facing the foot of the bed so his ass was somewhere near Jade's face, pointed in the air while he crouched over Jade's dick, lapping at the underside, cupping his balls experimentally with the hand he wasn't holding himself up with. Jade was insane with how good this whole mess felt, how fucking much the mere fact that this was Davey, Dave, his best friend sucking his dick like he'd wanted to for half his life turned him on. The thought alone had him writhing and begging and sobbing, totally recklessly pawing all over Davey's thighs. He ran his thumb vertically down Davey's ass crack, which he'd never even done on a girl friend, and watched Davey jerk in shock at the gesture, making a surprised yelp against Jade's dick. And that, that little jump of surprise was it; Jade was coming shamelessly with his back arched, emptying his whole self down Davey's throat in shuddering spurts. Davey tried to swallow but wasn't quite prepared, so he ended up gagging a little and choking Jade's seed all over his abdomen. Jade watched, dazed and languid as Davey laid his cheek in the milky mixture of his own spit and Jade's come, his hair getting matted with it as he panted, lashes fluttering across his bruised cheeks. 

"Fuck, Dave." Jade breathed, petting his hair, his cheek, his neck, all he could reach. In the weak moonlight, Davey's black eye looked like tar, sticky and dark. Davey smiled up at him stupidly, making sure he held Jade's eyes as he solemnly licked up the mess from his stomach, whimpering a little and palming his own dick, which had been mysteriously freed from his boxers between now and when he'd climbed in bed. What a bitch. 

"You're gonna make me hard again." Jade joked, pulling at one of Davey's braids to try and drag him up there, make him lie against his chest because Jade really was a pussy and liked to cuddle after he came. 

"Are you gonna help me get off?" Davey asked, ignoring Jade's pleas to come lie with him and instead clambering up to a sitting position, straddling Jade's hips. For a guy who hit his head a few hours earlier, he seemed pretty on top of things, and Jade briefly wondered if the concussion wore off and this right here was normal, sexed up Davey, clawing all over him and eating his come. He sort of hoped so. 

"Yeah." Jade breathed, running his hands gingerly across Davey's chest, feeling the damp, raw spots he'd cleaned in the shower brush under his thumbs like soft bruises in a peach. He stared at Davey, at his padded white stomach, girlish waist, firm arms. He wasn't perfect, but he was Davey, and that's all Jade had really wanted for awhile now. 

Davey's eyes were bright and sharp, belonging to a crazy person, someone who wasn't thinking clearly but instead was clouded by desire. Or head pain. He spat in his palm, a flash of wet light in the darkness before he used it to coat his dick, which he started jacking off quickly, rocking back and forth on Jade, watching the flush creep up on Jade's pale sternum as he rode him. He took Jade's other hand and led it to his dick, letting his fingers interlace with Jade's on himself, too much slippery wet flesh. He let his head tilt back, exposing the raw, scraped stretch of his Adam's apple bobbing at he swallowed.   
"Have you ever touched a guy before?" Davey asked, leaning down over Jade and supporting himself with both hands, letting Jade be the one to jack him off, hand nervous but firm, muscle on his forearm twitching. He nipped at his neck, his earlobe. It was an awkward position but he was close so nothing really mattered. 

"No, not like this."

"You like it?"

"Fuck, Dave, yeah, I like it, I like you..." Jade panted, really getting into fisting Davey's cock, loving the way he was thrusting to meet him half way, using his other hand to palm Davey's ass, kneading at it desperately, hungrily. He wanted all of him so bad. All of him. 

"If we keep doing this," Davey gasped, his breath damp and heaving in Jade's ear, "I'll let you fuck my ass, I'll let you get up inside of me." 

"Jesus Christ, Dave."

"I'll fuck you too, if you' can take me," Davey said harshly before digging his teeth into the tender skin of Jade's neck, sucking meaningfully at it, letting his tongue dance sloppily all over him, at his jaw, his collar bone, anywhere he could reach. 

"Oh my god, I had no idea you were so fucking dirty in bed, dude," Jade said incredulously, his fist working fast and hard and his wrist hurt like a motherfucker but who the hell cared, Davey was bent over him, dick in his hand, sweat dripping from his stomach, hot as hell and his, practically officially. 

That was when it hit him. What if this was the last time?! What if Davey never let him do this again because he wasn't under the influence of head wound impaired judgment? What the hell, Jade decided right then and there that Davey was coming in his mouth, fuck the concussion, fuck the head injury. He released Davey's cock and grabbed him firmly by the hips, forcing him to stagger forward, propping his own head up with a pillow and there it was, the monster cock bobbing proudly in front of him like a goddamn civil war cannon or something. Before Jade had time to rethink it, he swallowed the first three inches of it, sucking desperately and tonguing the slit, shocking himself by loving the salty, half-baked weird human flavor of it. He didn't care that in all their ample shower time together Davey hadn't scrubbed his own dick clean after a sweaty show...it was Davey's dick, in Jade's mouth and that was enough. Davey was gasping for a second before he was fucking Jade's lips, going stiff in about three second flat and coming, going absolutely hysterical under Jade's hands and jerking around all over the place, his knees coming dangerously close to strangling Jade in the process. He came mostly down Jade's throat and then across his lips and chest. Jade couldn't hold onto him to he followed Davey's cock with his hand, keeping it there firm and tight while Dave continued to spasm, animal sounds ripped raw and painful from him, hands tight around his own throat. 

Finally he collapsed unceremoniously, laying in this awkward, boneless heap of sprawled limbs that looked somewhat like marionette with its strings cut. Jade held him tight, lips buried in his messed up frizzed, come-caked braids. That was the best sex he'd ever had. And he's had it with a dude. A dude he'd known since high school. Who'd blown him. With a concussion. Whatever. Surprise, the boy with the lipstick could fuck. 

"I thought you weren't going to blow me when I was fucked up?" Was the first thing Davey said after he'd recovered, voice lazy and relaxed. 

"I changed my mind."

"I'm glad. I mean, your blow job sucked, but it was still a blow job." Davey joked, raising an brow and grinning at Jade, who rolled his eyes. 

"It wasn't even a blow job, I put my mouth on your dick for like, two seconds and then you jizzed all over me. You were like a thirteen year old watching his first porno." Jade said, sort of laughing, not bothering to tell Davey that his blowjob wasn't exactly ace either. Didn't matter, he'd still gotten off, and he was optimistic that Davey's skills would improve next time. If there was a next time. 

"Dave?"

"Hmm?"

"Is this...uh, what..." Jade struggled, fumbling miserably. Davey shut him up with a soft kisss, his lips smelling and tasting like Jade's come, which surprisingly didn't bother him all that much. 

"The answer is, 'whatever the hell you want from me,' dude, whatever you want." Davey said, offering a fist to Jade. "Pound it," he demanded, and their hands bumped above, below, and then hit knuckles. It had to be the stupidest thing Jade had ever done after sex, but he didn't expect a whole lot more from some punk kid with a concussion like Davey. 

"G'night. Make sure I live till the morning." Davey finished, rolling over so his back was facing Jade but their skin was flush, and Jade drifted off, suddenly overcome by the exhaustion of playing a show, saving his friend, and fucking him all in one night. He supposed he deserved a good night sleep after all that. 

~*~

Two weeks later, the tour was over and the wine colored swellings of shiny tender flesh marring Davey's otherwise pale, thin face had faded to a nasty palette of yellows and browns. It felt good to be back home, even if home was an oversized and drafty punk-infested ex-frat house split between four guys, and there was always a shortage of hot water and plenty of circuit breakers. It beat their van, it beat hotels, it beat night after night of struggling though gas station food to find vegetarian options. Davey stared art his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom he shared with Adam, peering at his reflection through the tooth-paste spatters and watermarks. There was a pink whorl at his hairline circling the remnants of one solitary black scab. He actually had to lift his hair in order to see it, so he figured he was pretty much on the mend. 

Davey had never done drugs, never even had so much as a fuckin' beer in his whole life, so getting that shitty concussion in Bakersfield was the closest he'd ever come to feeling under the influence of anything, even if it was something as lame as his own injured brain. He picked at the scab, worrying it's edges from his skin and flicking it off into the sink without so much as drawing a spec of blood out from underneath it. Davey jumped, hearing a tentative footstep on the linolium behind him. 

In two seconds flat, Jade was upon him, tightening one arm tight around his chest and using the other to put Davey in a fierce headlock. "Dude!" Davey choked out, writhing fruitlessly against Jade, bucking and wiggling and digging his teeth into the soft skin of his forearm, which made Jade curse but hold on all the same. Jade was thrilled that Davey was all healed up for the most part, it meant they could wrestle and horse around again like teenagers and he didn't have to worry about Davey getting pissed if he hit a bruise or something. "Uncle?" Jade whispered into Davey's ear. Davey went limp for a nanosecond but remained silent, then sprung to life again, throwing a sharp elbow into Jade's stomach and spinning out of his grip triumphantly, cackling all the while. 

"Uncle my ass, Jade. You still think you can beat me?" Davey smiled, stretching and bending over, so he was at Jade's level. Jade was currently doubled over, clutching his winded gut. 

"I hate you." Jade sputtered. 

"You can't catch me by surprise, dude, I'm a ninja." 

"I'm a ninja" Jade complained, coughing a little as Davey slapped his back, grabbing an arm and hauling him out of the bathroom like a wounded soldier being dragged out of the war zone. 

"Right, right," He looked over his shoulder, leading the way to Jade's bedroom as Jade kneaded his side, a few paces behind Davey, breathing carefully and looking for the formation of the bruise that would surely blossom from Davey's pointed, wayward elbow. "You're a bastard." 

Davey ignored him. "Hunter and Adam gone?"

"Hunter's on a date or something, Adam's getting groceries." Jade answered, still nursing his wound like the pussy he was when Davey backed him against his own, white washed bedroom wall. 

"Uh. Hi." Jade said quietly, a little dazed from the ache in his stomach and the soft, scratchy feel of Davey's fingers tangling in the short, mussed curls of hair at the back of his neck. 

"Hey."

"Hey..." Jade echoed, his cheeks getting hot. He still hadn't figured this out yet, even two weeks after the scene of the crime. Two weeks later and he still had the mustard and grape juice colored ghosts of Davey's fucking bite marks and hickeys all over his neck. Two weeks of sitting there, humiliated in various secret locations while Davey used his foundation to touch up the marks, hiding them from the rest of the band and definitely Jade's brother, laughing at Jade even though the whole thing was his fault. Yeah, Jade hadn't figured it out but that was okay. He was still half hard in his jeans. 

"You think we have time to fuck?" Davey asked, not really waiting for an answer and already unbuttoning Jade's pants. The two weeks had given him more than enough time to master the blowjob thing. Surprise, the boy with the lipstick could deep throat. 

Not a hell of a lot had changed since the fight two weeks ago...Davey was still a dirty, dirty bitch in bed that did shit recklessly and got his ass pounded, and Jade was still terrified as ever and sort of worried about...violating him. Remember, he fished the guy out of dumpsters when they were fifteen. You're careful with people you've loved that long, you treat them like they're always concussed. 

"It's no big deal, it's only for tonight" Smith had said two weeks ago. 

And two weeks later, that was the assumption Jade was still operating under. 

"But...your head injury?" Jade whispered against his lips, fumbling behind him to close the door, letting his the tip of his tongue brush Davey's. He knew the concussion was long gone and Davey was mostly healed, but it still felt better to bring it up, it made this whole, having sex with his best friend thing a little easier to swallow. Davey rolled his eyes. 

"Dude. It didn't stop you last time." He reminded him. 

And Jade guessed he was right. 

~*~


End file.
